


The Stars and Forbidden Cigarettes | Professor Remus Lupin

by lexlandy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst, Professor Remus Lupin, Protective Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin Lives, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexlandy/pseuds/lexlandy
Summary: Reverie Castill is a stubborn 7th year who finds peace in stars and in the quiet of night. Professor Lupin is a man full of mysteries and secrets, ones that Reverie vows to uncover. From trains and classrooms to balls and lakes, Lupin and Reverie find themselves in a jungle of mutual hatred. But, jungles have vines, and it's easy to get tangled.DISCLAIMER: All content and characters apart from Reverie Castill belongs to J.K. Rowling. I do not and will never support her transphobic and offensive comments and behavior.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. The Train

Reverie Castill walks through the cabins hurriedly, doing her final checks before she can return to the Prefect compartment and finally sit down. She still doesn't understand why she was made Prefect, but concedes that it was McGonagall's doing. Why McGonagall thinks that she "isn't as hard-headed as she makes herself out to be," she'll never know.

Nevertheless, she's here, and she might as well find ways to make herself useful. As smart and top-of-the-class as she was, she never really made any lasting friends -- never needed any -- but the loneliness sometimes got to her.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost topples over at the sight of Fred Weasley's signatured red hair suddenly sticking out of the second compartment in the cabin.

"Rev! Hey!" He exclaims, ignoring her shock, "Hope your summer was great! Um, so, Ron lost Scabbers again, his rat. It's gray. We can't leave our cabins yet, so I was hoping you could go look for it? Ron, Harry, and Hermione are still looking for an empty compartment here, but the last time he saw it was when he got on the train on the other end. He says he's sure Scabbers is on the train, so..."

"Yeah, Fred, of course. No problem," Reverie responds. Fred looks grateful as she hurries back down the corridor, towards the complete opposite side of the train. She looks through each compartment, growing increasingly more irritated when she approaches Slytherin's cabin with no sign of Scabbers. Once she gets to the end of the train, she turns around. She's determined to get back before the Trolley Lady makes her way down: getting a Chocolate Frog and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and curling up by the window in her empty compartment with the muggle book her grandmother had given her was something she'd been looking forward to all summer. With this thought in mind, the compartments seem to wisp behind her, until finally she finds and picks up Scabbers in the corner of the Prefect cabin and sighs of relief.

"There you are buddy! Let's get you back to Ron so I can get my Chocolate Frogs," she whispers and makes her way back down the train to Fred.

Hurrying through the cabin closest to the Prefects to get to the Gryffindors while looking down to make sure Scabbers doesn't successfully wiggle his way out of her hands, she slams into a wall and drops Scabbers.

"Shit! Scabbers, no!" She whisper-shouts. She watches as Scabbers scurries down the corridor, and realizes that it wasn't a wall that she ran into but a body. The man, scruffy and shabby-looking, barely looks up at her, his green eyes meeting her bewildered ones briefly but surprisingly intensely, as he brushes past. She looks after him.

"Hello? You're not going to help? Or fucking apologize? Asshole!" She calls after him. He keeps his head down and keeps walking, one hand in his brown tweed coat pocket, the other latched onto his briefcase.

"The Ministry is a grand piece of shit," she mutters under her breath and spots Scabbers scurrying back towards the corner of the cabin.

"And what about you, bud! Why can't you be a good rat and stay put!" she says. The man stalls a bit and glances back at her before entering a compartment. Reverie picks up Scabbers, for the second time now, and continues on her way to Fred.

She slows down when she walks into the Gryffindor cabin and stops all the way when she sees Fred in the second compartment. Opening the door with one hand, she watches as his face lights up.

"Thank Merlin! Thanks Rev!" He says.

"Of course, where's Ron?"

"Ron was just looking for compartments in this cabin, but I think it's full so he's probably going back one cabin."

"The one before the Prefects'? I was just in there."

"They went into Ginny's compartment for a bit. I was in there earlier. They probably left right after you passed them."

"Ok, I'll go look. I'll see you later then, at the feast," Reverie says, sliding the door closed.

Keeping a hold on Scabbers, wary of any more mysterious figures suddenly appearing, she finally sees Ron's signature fiery red hair and opens the compartment door.

"Scabbers!" He cries out, grabbing him from Reverie's hand.

Reverie smiles.

"Thank you so, so much, Rev!"

She looks around the cabin, first at Harry, then Hermione, then a figure under the cloak. Reverie frowns.

"Do you know who that is?" She asks.

"We don't know. He was here when we got in a few seconds ago," Hermione answers.

"I think I bumped into him in the corridor. He made me drop Scabbers." At that, Reverie could've sworn she saw his eyebrow twitch, and she wanted to see if it would happen again. "A Ministry asshole, I imagine. No care for the welfare of others." To her dismay, no movement.

All of a sudden, the train halts to a stop. Reverie looks out down the corridor which is growing colder by the moment.

"And that is my cue to leave. Say bye to Scabbers for me, Ron," Reverie says, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione, making her way back to her own compartment in the Prefects' cabin, and closing what she hopes to be the last compartment door of the train ride.

She leaves a bout of commotion behind her and somehow ignores the overbearing cold and the great flash of light as she huddles under her own cloak and loses herself in her book and intrusive, annoyed thoughts of green. 

\--------------------------

A/N: Chapter one, done! This chapter was just to show their primary encounter, nothing special, but the chapters to come will have more creative writing about the characters and angst and hatred! Stay tuned, and please feel free to comment if you liked it or if there is something in particular that you would like to see in the story!

DISCLAIMER: All content and characters apart from Reverie Castill belong to J.K. Rowling. However, I do not and will never support her transphobic and offensive comments and behavior.


	2. Nonverbal Spells

Reverie looks up as the clock strikes 6 times above her. She is the last one to enter the castle, a few fellow Prefects ahead of her, and she relishes in the expansiveness of Scotland's night sky. As a young girl, her grandmother would always point out the greatest constellations in the night sky by name, call them divine, the only magic Reverie knew for a long time. On a clear night like tonight, the Plough is especially visible, Polaris just above, and she hopes her grandmother is looking up as well.

She knows she'll have more time on other nights to stargaze, but tonight was the feast, and as good as her grandmother's cooking had been at home, she's missed the pumpkin juice and roast beef and potatoes. With her mouth already watering at the thought, she tears her eyes away from the night sky and enters the castle, slightly jumping when the grand doors slam behind her. Her eyes focusing on the candle-lit corridor in front of her, she sees out of the corner of her eye the brown tweed coat and case rushing up the main stairs.

"Hey!" Reverie calls out, starting to walk towards the man.

He slows down to glance behind him, and fully stops when Reverie reaches the last step.

"Are you ever going to apologize, or does the Ministry have to mandate the words "I'm sorry" too? For all you know, you could've caused Scabbers to die. That must deserve some form of recognition," Reverie says.

The man looks down at her with a frown on his face.

"What, not used to someone not kissing the Ministry's ass all the time? Tell Fudge that nobody likes a Minister that works only for himself. Merlin knows he didn't do anything for us," she spits.

She looks up at him angrily, expectantly, but when he only shakes his head, baffled, she rolls her eyes.

"Fine, have it your way. But just know that if the Ministry wants anyone to actually like them, they have to at least make an effort." She turns and walks up the final step and towards the Great Hall, the overbearing commotion slightly numbing her anger. She finds the Gryffindor table and sits by Fred, who smiles up at her, and Oliver Wood, her one and only friend, who asks her where she'd been.

"Just outside. Talking to some Ministry ass I saw on the train."

"Ministry ass? Who--" Oliver started, but was interrupted by Dumbledore, now standing at the podium. He begins by telling students of the dementors that are now stationed to protect Hogwarts from the escaped Azkaban prisoner, Sirius Black, the same dementors that searched the train earlier today.

"And now, I'd like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year, given Mr. Lockhart's absence this school year," Dumbledore starts.

"Honestly, if we learn _anything_ this school year, this one will be infinitely better than Lockhart," Oliver leans over to whisper.

"Mhm," Reverie nods, sipping her pumpkin juice.

"Please offer a warm welcome to Professor Lupin!" Dumbledore announces, and turns towards the man at the far left of the table to clap along with the students.

As Reverie looks up, she sees the brown tweed and the shabby hair on the man who stands up with his hands in his pockets, and she chokes on her drink. Oliver turns towards her, still coughing, and slaps his hand on her back three times until Reverie calms down, careful not to make too big of a scene.

"Shit, Rev! What happened?" Oliver questions, as they sit down with the other students.

"That's-- That's the Ministry ass that I talked to," she says hoarsely, her eyes squinted as she tries to breathe normally.

Reverie looks up at the man -- at Lupin -- and finds he is already looking at her, his green eyes almost fiery as he looks upon Reverie's embarrassment. Reverie tears her eyes away and internally cringes, poking at her potatoes and roast beef that suddenly don't look as appetizing anymore.

"Fuck."

\-----------------------

Classes start the next day, and just her luck as a prospective Auror, she has Defense Against the Dark Arts 4 out of 5 days a week.

"Oliver, please tell me we have some classes together!" She begs as she passes him her schedule over the table in the Great Hall.

"We have Potions, Divination, and a free period together! And, Defense Against the Dark Arts on Mondays and Wednesdays, but I think Thursdays and Fridays are reserved for NEWT students," Oliver says.

"Ok, at least we can suffer through Trelawney together. And maybe you can save me from total embarrassment in front of Lupin."

"It would be my pleasure," Oliver jokes. Reverie chuckles and rises from her seat, slinging her bag over her shoulder as Oliver gets up.

They walk down the corridors and from class to class, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls, and although Reverie laughs at a few of Oliver's jokes, she can't help but feel the impending doom that comes as the end of the day nears and with it, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Lunch and her free period come and go, and Reverie finds her feet taking her to the other side of the castle, walking in silence alongside Oliver. If she thought that the embarrassment in the Great Hall last night was bad, she finds that stepping foot into Defense Against the Dark Arts was the beginning of far worse.

"Ah, I see we have a couple of newcomers who've finally decided to join us. Welcome! Please, take a seat," Professor Lupin greets them, almost normally until Reverie realizes that they are the last ones in the class, and the only two seats left available are one in the very front and one in the back at the table on Oliver's right. Before she can process anything further, Oliver scrambles to the seat closest to him and looks up at Reverie apologetically. She widens his eyes at him, a silent yell, and forces her feet to take her to the front-most row, just a meter away from where Lupin was standing with a joyous, slightly diabolical grin on his face. Reverie only meets his eyes with a fake smile and sits down into her seat, her hands smoothing her skirt down as Lupin turns away to begin class.

"Well, class," he claps his hands, "To begin, my name is Professor Lupin, I'll be teaching this class this year, alongside a N.E.W.T. level class that some of you may be familiar with from last year. I was made aware by Dumbledore of Mr. Lockhart's -- rather unfortunate -- abrupt end to his time at Hogwarts, but I hope today -- and from here on out -- to attempt to garner a sense of what you've learned, and what you haven't, and do my best to teach you everything in between."

He looks around excitedly at everyone in the class except Reverie, clasps his hands behind his back, and begins to pace.

"Alright, we will jump right into non-verbal spells, given that you have not covered them yet," Lupin says as he looks up to find the class shaking their heads. "Great! Something that should have been covered last year, but no matter, no matter. Who would like to tell me about the advantage of using a nonverbal spell?"

Two beats pass, and no one answers.

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform which gives you a split-second advantage," Reverie recites from the textbook from her previous year. Lupin turns briskly to her and frowns.

"Although you'll surely find I am a flexible teacher, I do not permit speaking out of turn, Miss..." Lupin trails off, expectantly.

"Castill, sir, and _I'm sorry_ ," she begins as she sits straighter in her chair, emphasizing the last two words while watching his eyes flare slightly, "but it seemed that no one was going to answer, and I figured a correct answer, albeit out of turn, was better than no answer at all."

Lupin turns and begins his pacing once more. "A very nice, _recited_ answer from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_ , I believe. But, original answers, I'm sure, are hard to come by for some."

"Yes, sir. But for others, they are nonexistent," Reverie says without hesitation.

Lupin stops dead only to meet her eyes staring back into his challengingly. If he found something in them, he did not let it show, for all he said for the rest of the lesson was:

"For the rest of class, please turn in your books to page 102 and note the spells you are most familiar with and those you are least familiar with. We will continue from there on Wednesday," he says, turning away and beginning to climb the stairs up to his office, then briefly halting, "And, Miss Castill, please stay after class, to make up for the time you had the rest of us waste in waiting."

Reverie looks back at Oliver in disbelief and turns to the front of the class only to see his coat swish elegantly as he storms into his office and slams the door.

\---------------------

A/N: Chapter two!! This one is longer, and a little bit more packed! Also, I am in love with the GIF at the top, so I felt like I needed to share. I hope everyone is having a great New Year so far! Stay safe, and please feel free to comment if you liked this or if there is anything in particular you want to see!

DISCLAIMER: All content and characters apart from Reverie Castill belong to J.K. Rowling.


	3. Officially Met

The rest of the two-hour block passes by excruciatingly slowly, and when the hourglass at the front of the room finally bottoms out, the rest of the class excitedly packs their bags and leaves. Through the stained windows, Reverie can clearly see that the sun had almost completely set, and her stomach is audibly aware. Oliver looks back at Reverie, silently asking if she wanted him to wait, and she waves him off. Just as Oliver nods and slings his bag over his shoulder, Professor Lupin exits his office and begins descending the stairs. Oliver hurries out of the door before Lupin spots him, nervous that he'll remember him as Reverie's tardy accomplice.

Once Lupin reaches the last step, it's just the two of them, and Reverie notices that he has one hand in his pocket and is running the other through his hair: whether it be in tire or annoyance, she wasn't sure. Reverie stands straight against the side of her desk, and Lupin stands a meter away, now with both hands in his pockets, and finally meets her golden brown eyes.

"Miss Castill, now that we've officially met, I feel it appropriate to say that I find our numerous meetings greatly tiring."

"Sir, if I had known your position, I would've at least attempted to act with some more propriety. But, with all due respect, you never corrected me. In fact, you never said anything. And you never apologized," Reverie retorts.

"Attempted? Professor or not, propriety should be a given! Baffled as I might've been, what superior would I be to explain myself to a student so viciously offending my character?"

Reverie scoffs. "Did you keep me after class to explain to me my role in society? I think I am quite aware of my role, Professor. I am not a child. I am not ignorant."

"No, but your behavior today begs otherwise. I came to Hogwarts with no intention of being a punishing professor, but neither a pushover."

"How do you expect me to respect you when you seem to not have an ounce of empathy!"

"Empathy over a rat? No, I'm not going to apologize over a rat that you then proceeded to find unscathed. If you hold it as the root of your disrespect, so be it. Do not expect from me, however, any more respect than I am shown, Miss Castill. I'll only ask you to not be tardy to Wednesday's lesson. Timeliness twice a week shouldn't be impossible."

Reverie realizes he isn't aware of her placement in his N.E.W.T. level course and opens her mouth to inform him, but before she can say anything, he cuts her off.

"Miss Castill, if you don't have anything to say apart from further berating my character, I kindly ask you to go," he says with finality and looks down at his papers.

As much as she loves Defense Against the Dark Arts, she can't help the anger that begins bubbling within her, towards the course, him, and the embarrassment he's caused her. But, she forces herself to turn around and walk out of his classroom, and, looking out at the sky, she finds that any sliver of light that might've been still visible before is now fully gone, and that the moon sits alone, a starless night.

Once the door slams behind her, Lupin sets his papers down and leans on his desk, letting his head hang. He'd offered to teach for Dumbledore and James, not for discipline and a foolish young girl whose hard-headedness directed towards him has unfortunately landed her squarely into Lupin's jurisdiction for discipline. And isn't this what McGonagall had told him to do? Put disrespectful or misbehaving students in their place? If so, he is already much too exhausted one day in. He sighs and pushes his hands into his vest pocket, where his fingers meet a thin chocolate bar and another small paper box that he slightly recoils from. Pulling out the chocolate, he unwraps it and takes a bite, leaning against the table in the center of the room and looking straight at Reverie's now empty seat. He shakes his head, pushes off the table, and begins making his way out of the classroom and towards the Great Hall.

============================================

Reverie walks to the Gryffindor table briskly and plops down onto her seat across from Oliver.

"How did it go?" He asks, leaning forward to speak over the noise of hundreds of other students talking.

"Badly," she answers and sticks her fork in the food in front of her. Oliver leans back, realizing that now may not be the best time to talk.

Reverie angrily chews on the potato and looks up at the professors' table at the same moment Lupin arrives to his seat, and their eyes, his green and hers brown, meet. Reverie at first had the intention of challenging him, another futile attempt at making it clear she won't be pushed around, but Lupin leans back in his chair and drinks from the goblet in his hand, all while looking at her over the rim of the glass. Reverie, slightly flustered, chews slower and grimaces when she swallows the food in her mouth. Lupin smirks slightly and runs his hand through his hair. Reverie can't help but watch as his hair softly lands back against his forehead, and as his green eyes pierce hers, she suddenly feels agitated. She can feel her cheeks growing red, and she realizes her appetite is gone, the hunger replaced with some growing feeling in her stomach that she chalks up to the anger. With Lupin watching her every move, she tears her eyes away.

Under her breath, she gets up, mutters "Excuse me" to Oliver, picks up her bag, and makes her way out of the Great Hall, just as desserts appear on the table.

Once she is finally outside, she doesn't care that the stars are gone, doesn't care that half -- if not all -- of the Great Hall was watching her abrupt exit in the middle of dinner; she only cares that she can finally breathe. The anger and frustrating discussion felt like a replica of before, of her conversation with Fudge that day, after her parents had --

No. She couldn't think about it, afraid that one more intrusive thought would send her over the edge and she'd explode. Her head is spinning, and she stumbles to a large rock by the lake and flings herself down onto it. She thought she'd be able to do it, to come back for one more year, but she'd let her anger unnecessarily spill onto Lupin, maybe innocent at first but now the rightful source of even more frustration. She sets her head in her hands, her wavy brown hair spilling out in front of her like a curtain, and breathes deeply.

Calming down now, she looks up and out at the water, for a second thinking that the ripples reflecting the moonlight are stars, and she lets herself imagine that in the depths of the lake, there is a world where the events of today and of last winter didn't happen, where her grandmother didn't look up at the sky that night and tell her that the Plough and Orion were Lucy and Michael, where a starless sky didn't mean complete and utter loneliness.

She feels a single tear roll down her cheek, and reaches up quickly to brush it off when she hears slow footsteps from behind her. She looks behind her, sees the jumper and vest, and groans audibly as she turns back towards the lake.

"You've got to be kidding me," she says, muffled by her hands against her face.

"Miss Castill, Mr. Filch has instructed that students are not to be on the grounds after dark and made it clear that he would much more harshly reprimand you if I hadn't offered to bring you inside myself."

Reverie swallows her pride. "One minute of silence is all I ask. Please. I'm not a prisoner. I have no intention of arguing or fighting."

"Fine," he says, but instead of leaving, he sits down beside her, the rock lending room to one more occupant.

"That is not what I meant," Reverie says, jolting to her feet in an attempt to quell the anger bubbling inside of her at their proximity. First he intrudes when he fully knows her disdain towards him, and now he stains her favorite spot on Hogwarts' grounds with his presence?

"Ah, but Miss Castill, you can't possibly expect me to allow you to roam the grounds freely when Sirius Black may be doing the same," he spits out, looking towards the lake, seemingly more in condemnation of the situation rather than of Reverie. Reverie looks down to smooth her skirt and back up to speak to the side of Lupin's face.

"Well, as you have allowed no room for this increasingly horrible evening to redeem itself, please excuse me, Sir. I'll escort myself back to the castle, as I assume Filch is there, anxiously awaiting my return."

"Very well. Good night, Miss Castill," he says, nodding, not bothering to look away from the lake. Reverie says nothing more, turns, climbs up to the castle and to the open door in which Filch's slouched figure was silhouetted, and is promptly escorted away from the dark sky and through candle-lit corridors to McGonagall's office.

Lupin, however, even after hearing the large doors shut from the castle behind him, remains seated on the rock, its appeal to Reverie now clearer, as he can see only the expansiveness of the Scottish highlands and the night sky beyond the water, enveloped in the smell of lavender and vanilla that he can only assume came from her. If he were any less agitated, he'd see even more beauty; but, when his fingers find his vest pocket, reach for the chocolate, and meet the small paper box, he doesn't recoil but instead takes it out. Shaking his head at the sight of the almost full packet in his hand but slightly laughing at the thought that a muggle commodity could kill him before anything else does, he pulls out one long, white, papery cigarette, sticks the end between his teeth, and snaps his fingers to create a flame. He flexes his jaw to hold it, breathes in as the tip burns, and then closes his eyes and exhales into the dark night. As the nicotine re-fills his lungs, however, he sombers at the thought that, if the semester progresses the way the past two days have, Reverie may well be the only credible orchestrator to his slow, torturous death, and he leans his head back as he breathes out, the smoke swirling tantalizingly to encircle the half-moon before dissolving. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Chapter three!! There is definitely more action in this chapter, but it's really only getting started. A bit more of a sneak peak into Miss Castill's background, too! Once again, please feel free to comment if you like the story so far or if there is anything in particular you want to see! Stay tuned! :)

DISCLAIMER: All content and characters apart from Reverie Castill belong to J.K. Rowling.


	4. The Storm

"I expected better from you, Miss Castill, especially given the tumultuous times," McGonagall says, disappointed. Reverie hangs her head down.

McGonagall sighs, "Four nights of detention then, with Professor Lupin, with whom you are familiar, I understand?"

Reverie's head snaps up. "Familiar?"

"Mr. Filch gave me the impression that he offered to go to you outside and escort you back?"

Reverie internally relaxes. "Oh, yes. He's my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." If Lupin had divulged even a fraction of what she had said to him, she is sure that four nights of detention would pale in comparison to whatever punishment McGonagall would give her. Now come to think of it, she is surprised he hasn't.

"Very well. Starting Thursday evening," McGonagall says with finality and gets up from her chair.

Reverie sputters, "I understand, but Professor, Thursday the Prefects meet for the beginning-of-term. I can't possibly miss my first meeting as a Prefect."

"I will inform the Head Boy and Girl, Miss Castill. Now, it's much too late for you to be out of your common room. Off you go."

When she exits the classroom, Filch is no longer outside, and Reverie is silently appreciative of the few minutes alone. She walks down the hallways slowly, her footsteps echoing off of the stone walls. Most of the men and women in the paintings surrounding her are asleep, and the common room is empty when she wakes up the Fat Lady and climbs through the portrait hole. After the day she's had, she's finally been given some peace and quiet, and she sits on the velvet couch in front of the fire, pulls out the book her grandmother had given her before she left home, and opened to page one.

"The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald, it says, and she begins reading. The last thing she remembers reading was Gatsby soaked from the rain and standing at Nick's doorstep, when she jolts awake by the sound of thunder. Her eyes open and are met with a flash of light, and she turns to look at the grandfather clock against the wall: 5 a.m. She'd fallen asleep.

She closes the book on her lap and gets up. Before this year, she would've ran from the quiet and solitude, but looking into the faces she'd known for so long makes everything feel like nothing had changed, when everything had changed. Nevertheless, she heads to the dormitory.

Classes, lunch, and dinner pass rather quickly on Tuesday, and she was grateful for the reprieve from Lupin.

The storm becomes only drizzle on Wednesday, and her and Oliver's last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson together of the week comes more quickly than they would've preferred. As they step into class and take their seats, Lupin continues their lesson on nonverbal spells from Monday, but he doesn't look at Reverie once. Regardless of whether or not her hand is raised, she is as good as invisible, and when the hourglass bottoms out, Lupin makes a purpose to not linger for a second longer and leaves with the rest of the class.

Thursday comes, and with it, another stronger storm, but Reverie determines to not let it detract from her day, as not only does she have detention this evening, but it is also the day of her first N.E.W.T. level class with Lupin, first period.

That morning, she enters class first through the already open door and takes her seat in the front row. As Lupin opens the door to his office and begins descending, the other six students file in and take their own seats, and only when he is fully down the stairs does he look up to meet Reverie's daring eyes from the front row and falters. Reverie smiles, and after his widening eyes blink, he begins the lesson, resuming his practice from the day before of ignoring both her and the hand she shoots into the air in response to his questions entirely. Nevertheless, while she works, he watches her and realizes his days of reading people are long gone, and he is suddenly exceedingly curious to discover the quality of her work, in hopes that it will justify his disdain towards her.

==================================

Lunch and dinner pass rather quickly on Thursday, with no more sign of Lupin anywhere. When the clock strikes 7, she almost turns around from the door leading to his classroom, hoping that he might be gone, or sick, yet she still knocks while crossing her fingers that she receives no answer. But, it was to no avail, for from inside the room, she hears "Come in."

Opening the door and entering the large classroom, she sees Professor Lupin at the end of it, getting up from his chair in greeting and beckoning at the seats in front of him for Reverie to sit. She chooses the same seat from earlier in the day, in the front row, figuring that it might slightly annoy him if she sits in the seat closest to him with so many other options to choose from. However, if he is bothered by it, he does not show it, for he leans back in his chair, rests his feet on the corner of his desk, picks up a book, and starts to read, the lightning from the storm illuminating the scratches along the side of his face.

Reverie slightly frowns, unsure of what she was to do. Having finished his homework during her free period of the day, she decides to pull out "The Great Gatsby" and pick up where she left off Tuesday morning. She reads in silence, thunder resounding outside every now and then, and as she nears the end of the book, she looks up to find Lupin looking directly at her, his own book sitting discarded on his desk.

Lupin raises his eyebrows. "I didn't know it was physically possible for you to keep quiet for so long in my presence."

Marking her page, Reverie sets her book down on the table in front of her. "I figured it was my inability to keep quiet that ultimately got me into this situation, and the only thing worse than four weeks in detention is five weeks in detention."

Remus laughs -- for the first time in front of her, she realizes -- but, as quick as the moment had come, it passes, as the clocktower's chimes reverberate even through the storm to announce itself nine times. Reverie looks towards the windows, the clouds dimming the moonlight and covering the stars, and she turns away with a slight frown.

"Disappointed that our time together has concluded so quickly?" He smirks.

Reverie forgets about the stars. "Two hours is quick for you, Professor? Do you ever get bored?"

"No, I find literature a fascinating medium in which time loses its meaning." He waves his book with a small grin on his face. "But, alas, two hours were not enough for me to lose myself completely and finish this novel."

Reverie leans far over her desk and squints her eyes to read the title. Her eyes take in the words "The Count of Monte Cristo," but her nose picks up on the faint scent of cigarette smoke, something she only recognizes from her muggle neighbor who would smoke nearly a packet a day. As angry as she remembers her father had been daily for being forced to raise a child in second-hand smoke, she smiles at the overwhelming familiarity of the smell.

"You've read 'The Count of Monte Cristo?'" Lupin asks, thinking her smile meant she recognized the book.

Reverie, in an attempt to save face, says, "No, but I've heard of it."

Lupin nods, and as Reverie leans back and gets up from her seat, he recognizes the lavender and vanilla emanating off of her and, reminded of that night, suddenly craves a cigarette. He shakes his head, rises, and leads Reverie out of the classroom.

"Good night, Miss Castill," Lupin says as he stands in the doorway.

"Good night, Professor." Reverie turns and makes her way slowly down the corridor, waiting to hear his classroom doors close. Once they do, however, she isn't met with only her echoing footsteps but rather two pairs of footsteps: hers, now slowing, and another's, retreating in the opposite direction. She turns in her place only to see Lupin rounding the corner into the courtyard adjacent to his classroom. Her deadly curiosity overwhelms any rational thought, and deciding in that moment that once she was outside, the storm would mask her footsteps, she begins walking, following him through the covered outdoor corridor that surrounds the courtyard. She hesitates when she realizes he is going down the steps to the grounds, but the thunder -- louder outside -- scares her into motion, and she walks quicker.

By the time she is down the stairs, the rain begins soaking through her cloak, and she squints through the storm and watches him walk to the Whomping Willow. From where Reverie stands, she can see him reach the base of the Willow, where the thick leaves and branches protect him from any further assault by the rain, and she watches as he leans against the trunk and runs his hand through his soaking wet hair, which makes it stick up slightly.

But, before she can further analyze his hair's antics, lightning strikes just beyond the castle, smoke beginning to rise from a far away tree, and she realizes just how soaked she is, standing in one place in the pouring rain like a fool.

Seeing the forest and a line of large rocks on the left, and figuring that the rain has already attacked every inch of her body, she goes against any other rational thought, runs, and crouches behind a rock. The trees provide a surprisingly good canopy, and while the storm rages on around her, Reverie is covered and focuses on Lupin, who, feet crossed at his ankles and leaning against the tree, takes out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, snaps his fingers, and lights one of them. He shakes his head, as if reprimanding himself, but he breathes in and looks up at the covered sky, and he exhales a cloud of smoke to add to the storm.

Why she felt the undying need to figure him out, she isn't sure, but Reverie stays rooted to her spot behind the rock and watches as his jaw flexes when he inhales, his hair getting more and more tousled each time he runs his hand through it.

But the storm doesn't seem to approve of her stalkerish escapade, because halfway through Lupin's cigarette, lightning strikes the tree behind her, and fiery branches brush her cloak as they fall.

"Fuck!" She curses, when ashy twigs land in her hair.

At the noise and the lightning, Lupin stubs the cigarette, pushes off of the tree, and walks out of the cover of the willow and towards the rocks. Reverie, still crouched, mentally murders herself.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," she mutters, her eyes closed, as if willing the situation away. But, no magic could get her out of this situation, and she doesn't open her eyes, even when she hears his footsteps stop two feet away.

"Miss Castill?" He asks, bewildered.

She lifts her head and opens one eye, cringing. "Present."

"Are you out of your mind? What are you doing outside?"

She stands, trying but failing to brush off of any remaining twigs and leaves, the rain making it hard to see anything. "What are you doing outside?"

"You were following me?" Lupin asks, incredulously.

"Now you see what it's like to be disturbed."

"Yes, you are disturbed. Mentally. You could've died," Lupin says, scanning her body for any injuries.

"You know I meant being bothered," she says, crossing her arms defensively, uncomfortable under his gaze and now increasingly freezing from the rain pouring on them with the canopy gone.

"You followed me just to annoy me? Miss Castill, you have to know that this merits detention," he says, over the rain. Looking for a way out, she spots the packet of cigarettes slightly sticking out of his jumper's pocket. She looks up.

"Aren't cigarettes forbidden, Professor?" She asks, fluttering her eyelashes, feigning innocence.

He glares at her, and she looks back, challengingly.

"I should've expected you'd somehow find a way to threaten me one of these days, given your track record." He says clenching his jaw, and he takes hold of her arm to lead her back towards the castle.

They run up the stairs and through the courtyard with their hands above their heads, the storm worsening now, and once they make it into his classroom, Lupin slams the door and leads Reverie up the stairs to his office.

Careful not to move too far so the water is consolidated in one spot, Reverie stops just past the door frame and looks around the office, which is packed with items but so overwhelmingly personal that it makes her heart tug, reminding her of home. His desk sits in the middle of the room, and the walls are lined with bookshelves, some holding books by wizards and muggles alike, others holding skeletal heads. There's a gramophone in one corner, a stone fireplace in the other, and Lupin, after letting go of her arm, points his wand at the hearth, both of them watching as beautiful, dancing flames rise and bask the room in a warm glow.

But the moment is quickly extinguished when Lupin turns around, infuriated, and Reverie is sure that any good rapport she'd gained with him the last time they were in his classroom was most certainly gone.

He points his wand at a chair, and it promptly, terrifyingly speeds towards Reverie until it stops just close enough to nudge the back of her legs.

"Sit," Lupin demands. Reverie carefully sits as close to the edge as possible to avoid ruining it: she'd annoyed him sufficiently today, and she is much too scared that one more wrong move would push him over the edge. Lupin leans against the desk in the center of the room, facing her with his arms crossed.

"You have no right, under any circumstances, to threaten me, Miss Castill. Frankly, I should've gone to Professor McGonagall on Sunday, or Monday, or any of these days, to tell her how you have shown me nothing but disrespect ever since boarding the train to Hogwarts. However, I am not very prone to confrontation, as I am sure you have gathered," he says.

Reverie stares into the fire. "On the contrary, Professor. I feel that our recent meetings have been rather confrontational." Lupin's eyebrows raise.

"And I feel that the blame for that rests entirely on you," he spits out, pushing off of the desk and standing in front of the fire now, as if looking at her was irritating enough. "If you had gotten hurt, I would've been the one at fault. It becomes my responsibility, something I'm sure you know little of." He turns back towards her.

"You know nothing about me," she says through gritted teeth, rising from her chair and walking towards the window on the other end of the small, circular room to look out onto the grounds. Through the windows, she watches as the storm rages on, but the room is warm and her face is burning. He follows her with his eyes, and when she turns around, he is already looking at her.

Neither moves for what feels like ages, him by the fire and her by the storm, but when lightning strikes, Reverie shivers under her wet clothes, and she circles the room to stand on the left side of the fireplace, closer to the warmth, even if it means closer to Lupin.

Reverie, with her hands out in front of her to warm from the heat, and Lupin, with his arms still crossed against his chest, both stare into the flames, until Reverie breaks the silence.

"Can I ask you something?" She asks, not daring to look at him. He doesn't move or speak, so she continues.

"Why break the rules, just to smoke a muggle cigarette in the pouring rain?"

Lupin doesn't answer immediately, and Reverie knows she doesn't deserve an answer, but he surprises her.

"Old habits die hard," he says stoically, but he knows he's lying, because it died rather easily, until he met her.

As the fire burns down to embers, the warm glow is replaced by blue light from the moon in the increasingly clear night sky. The stars look down on Reverie and Lupin once again, but she realizes that, for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel their absence, and even though she still can feel the sting of the heavy rain and burning twigs meeting her skin, she was grateful for that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter 4!! Freak!!! There it is, folks. More to come, more to come. Kinda toxic, kinda cute. And it's stormy, my favorite weather. Hope everyone is doing well! This is probably my favorite chapter so far (and it's longer)! Again, feel free to comment if you liked it or just to say anything! Until next time, friends. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All content and characters apart from Reverie Castill belong to J.K. Rowling.


	5. The Paper

On Friday, the only interaction Reverie has with Lupin is in class, when she hands him the paper he'd assigned the day before. She worked extra hard on it just to spite him, and she's confident in her work.

He asks everyone in class to turn it in before they leave, and Reverie is near the end of the line. Ahead of her, she hears Lupin speaking.

"Thank you, Miss Gregory. Mister James. Miss Monterey," he says, nodding with every paper he gets.

Reverie reaches the front of the line, holds out her paper, and watches as his hand meets the opposite end to grab it. He scans the name at the top, and his eyes rise to meet hers briefly before they fall; so briefly that, if their deep green wasn't so striking, she would've thought she'd imagined it. She lets go of her end, the pressure of their hands holding the same object dissipating, and Lupin remains entirely silent. The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 5 seconds, but to her, it felt like ages.

She moves to the side and, as she reaches her table and leans down to pick up her bag, she watches the student who'd been standing behind her reach out with the paper. His eyes are still down, and one beat passes until he looks up and smiles.

"Thank you, Miss Smith," he says, as he takes the paper and continues down the line.

Reverie slings the strap over her shoulder, turns around, and leaves the classroom.

==================================

The better half of the weekend passed with no sign of Lupin, and Reverie is grateful. She and Oliver spend Sunday learning quidditch, something she'd been putting off since 5th year when she told Oliver, in a moment of weakness, that she'd never learned how to play and that she was a terrible flyer. The look of absolute horror on his face still haunts her, but today the look of pure, unadulterated joy on his face was just as haunting, but in a good, beautiful way.

He teaches her the basics in the courtyard closest to the quidditch pitch; Ravenclaws had the quidditch pitch reserved for Sunday mornings, but Oliver told Reverie that it was no matter, they'd learn the basics here and apply them on the pitch in the afternoon. Reverie still remembers how disappointed Madame Hooch was in her first year, when Reverie could barely get the broom off the ground, much less mount and fly it. So, for half an hour, Oliver teaches her how to command an old ("but trustworthy!") Shooting Star from the cupboard, and the first time Reverie flies a low circle around him, his and her laughs mix together and echo off of the empty grounds.

"Yes! That's exactly it!" He exclaims, his cheeks red. Reverie hits the ground running, literally.

"Hah! How do you slow this thing?" She asks, breathing heavily.

"Shooting Stars are the slowest brooms out there, Rev," Oliver says, jogging up to her.

"Shut up, Oliver. As exhilarating as it is to be in the air, I could very well be up there for a very long time if I don't know how to slow down," she says, frowning down at the broom. He lightly pushes her shoulder.

"You're such a soil sport. That was amazing!"

"And you're a liar, but thank you," she says, smiling as she jokingly curtsies. She rubs her hands together. "Ok, what's next? Let's do the balls!"

Oliver reddens, and he turns around to get the beginners' quidditch case and open it. "Ok, well this big one in the middle, that there's the quaffle. The quaffle is the ball Chasers try to throw into the other team's hoops in order to get 10 points. Keepers, like me, defend the hoops."

"And those two?" She says, pointing at the two identical balls on either side of the quaffle.

"Those are bludgers. They are bewitched to fly and hit players off of their broomsticks. Beaters are tasked with protecting their team and sending the balls with a bat to the opposing team's players." Oliver looks at her. "It's been almost 7 years, and you still have no idea what these are?"

"I go to the matches, I just don't call the balls by name! I can't be the only one," Reverie exclaims.

"I can't believe I choose to be your friend," he says, shaking his head and leaning down to take out a gold sphere from the inside of the case's lid.

"That one I know. The golden snitch," she says, proudly.

"Yeah, only because they announce it by name at the matches. Nice try, Einstein," he winks and throws it into the air.

By the time the sun begins setting, Reverie's ribs hurt from the children-level bludgers slamming into her and from laughing. As they walk out of the quidditch pitch, Reverie is dizzy and Oliver puts his arm around her shoulders to steady her. They walk side-by-side, the golden light glowing along the path back to the school, and Reverie leans into Oliver, at which Oliver rubs her shoulder affectionately, and suddenly her ribs don't hurt as bad, and she feels at peace with the world.

==================================

But, as with anything good that happens to Reverie, it couldn't possibly last too long. On Monday, Lupin's class comes quickly, but she finds that it passes unbearably slowly. Lupin won't dare to meet her eye, regardless of the uncountable amount of times she raises her hand to answer the question. The animosity was clear.

Nearing the end of class, Lupin stands up from his desk and looks around until he picks up a stack of papers off the floor. He straightens.

"Class, I've completed grading your N.E.W.T. essays over the weekend. I'm sure you are all eager to see how you've done on the first of many for this term, but I'll call your names in order, from Z to A. Once you've received it, you may be dismissed. Non-N.E.W.T. students, you all are dismissed now."

Reverie sighs as she watches Oliver leave the classroom, and she turns back towards the front of the classroom, waiting to be the last one called.

The minutes tick by slowly until finally she hears,

"Miss Castill."

Only she, Lupin, and one student preparing to leave remain in the classroom. She looks up to see Lupin's eyes on her, and the hair on her skin stands under his gaze as she rises from her seat to pick up the essay.

She takes it from him quickly, and when she looks down, the eye contact breaks, and Lupin grabs his satchel and strides out of the classroom before she can process the big P, for Poor, on her paper. Her eyes widen, and she snaps her head up to find an empty classroom.

"P-Professor!" She calls. She grabs her own bag and runs out of the classroom into the hallway. She sees Lupin entering the frenzy of students going to their next class.

"Professor! Professor Lupin!" She yells as she begins making her way through the crowd. But, all she can see is the top of his head and then nothing at all.

==================================

Back in the common room with Oliver, Reverie is fuming.

"This is completely unjustified! I worked so hard on this! He's just doing this to spite me," Reverie says, looking down at her paper.

Oliver turns to face her on the couch. "Rev, it's ok. It's normal not to do well on your first essay of the term."

Reverie looks up and frowns. "I was so confident."

Oliver puts his arm around her shoulder again. "You just have to find out what he likes, figure him out."

Reverie looks back down at her paper and nods. "I just have to figure him out."

==================================

Reverie figures that she'll use Thursday's detention as an excuse to speak with Lupin, leaving no excuse for him to evade her. But, come Thursday, Professor McGonagall meets her in the courtyard outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to tell her that she'll be serving detention with her that evening.

"But why, Professor? If I may ask?" Reverie says as McGonagall slightly nudges her forward, away from Lupin's classroom.

"Professor Lupin finds himself otherwise occupied at the moment, Miss Castill," McGonagall says. Nervously or agitatedly, Reverie couldn't tell.

The two hours pass simultaneously slowly and quickly in the Transfiguration classroom. Reverie isn't sure if it's from her eagerness to speak to Lupin about her grade or from the lack of his presence in the room, but which scenario related to slowly and which to quickly, she wasn't sure.

Time moves on, nevertheless, and once the hourglass at the front of the classroom finally bottomed out, Reverie jumped to her feet, her bag already on her shoulder.

"Have a good night, Professor McGonagall," she says and walks quickly to the door.

"Good night, Miss Castill. And, head straight to your common room, don't wander!" She responds, just as the door shuts behind Reverie. McGonagall sighs and shakes her head.

Reverie walks with determination. She's had 2 hours to prepare what she's going to say to Lupin, what points she should've received on the essay and where, but when she reaches Lupin's door, she notices the rain beginning to fall, and she falters at the eerie familiarity. If only Scotland had less repetitive weather. Reverie ignores it, knocks, and waits for a response. She hears nothing.

"Professor Lupin, I need to discuss something with you," she tries, knocking again. When she's greeted with more silence, she figures he's in his office, and opens the door.

The first thing she sees is glass scattered across the floor, reflecting the blue light coming through the windows from the moon. _The Count of Monte Cristo_ is also on the ground alongside the glass, thrown with seemingly so much force that the front cover is barely still on, and the inside book is now so folded over it seems like the outside. With wide eyes, she looks up and sees the door to his office wide open.

Reverie takes a tentative step forward, careful to not step on any pieces of glass.

"Professor?" She calls, continuing to move forward. Only once she reaches his desk at the front of the room does she see a shadow moving about his office. She pulls out her essay from her bag.

"I know you can hear me! And see me in class and when I'm talking to you! There's something I need to say!" She yells out. She hears furniture bumping above.

"Prof--"

"Get out."

Reverie almost jumps at the voice, somehow deeper, angrier, different from the voice that had yelled at her last week. She notices drops of blood on the railing as she approaches the bottom of the stairs. She touches it with the tip of her pinky finger, and it leaves a smudge mark. Blood gets underneath her fingernail.

"What happened here?"

"GET OUT!" He bellows. His voice reverberates against the stone walls, and this time, Reverie does jump. She grasps the paper defensively with both hands now. He's nothing more than a shadow and a voice, but it manages to push her out of the classroom.

Outside, she leans against the door to inspect the bottom of her shoes for any shards of glass she might've picked up on her hurried way out. Although she's emerged seemingly unscathed, her paper would say otherwise, and she realizes that the blood off her pinky has joined the big P in her paper's increasingly red decorum.

She sighs and figures that the paper couldn't look any worse. From inside the room, she hears another object meet the glass on the floor, and her curiosity was making staying out of the room unbearable, yet she was scared of getting in the crossfire of whatever was happening.

But, as Reverie makes her way deeper into the castle, she doesn't notice that the full moon is now completely out from behind the scattered rain clouds, and she doesn't hear Lupin yell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5! I'm sorry for taking so long to update!! I just couldn't make time to write... But I got this one done, and I'm excited to write more:) There's more of Oliver and Reverie in this one, so I hope you all enjoy! As always, feel free to comment! 


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